


I will be waiting for you

by FandomTrashbin



Series: I'll be yours. Will you be mine? (Reed900 Drabble Collection) [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I have no idea how to tag, M/M, Oneshot, angst with happy ending, gavin gets high and tells rk900 some secrets, it was 3am when i wrote this, send help, slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:13:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrashbin/pseuds/FandomTrashbin
Summary: A WR600 Android unit snaps and goes deviant in the apartment complex Gavin lives in - he's lucky enough to have taken RK900 to his home to repair a broken microwave, so they decide to take a look together. Just as the situation seems to have been taken under control, something happening within a split second lets all hell break loose.





	I will be waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote this for my significant other, who then advised me to put it on here. I'm very sorry about the weird formatting, I copied this from the notes on my phone (it's been forever since I did not write something on my laptop, Jesus Christ) and I only corrected what I wanted to be in cursive, not the paragraphs. 
> 
> Anyway, in this story, RK900 ("Nines"), has already gone deviant. 
> 
> I thoroughly hope you enjoy the story - if so, let me know in a comment (which I will 100% answer to because I'm an absolute slut for comments), or leave your kudos. Happy reading!!

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

 

Quick as a lightning, RK900 turned his head back behind the sofa.

The bullets hit the furniture with a dumb _thuck_ ; one sirred through the air only centimeters away from his face.

 

It took the Android half a second to analyze the couch. Three bullets had been fired; two had hit the cushion – which had an iron core, the only reason why they were still alive now instead of having been pierced by the projectiles unbothered by a simple piece if furniture - one had hit the wall.

 

"This is fucking insane!", Reed cursed next to him. "He's gonna shoot the girl. We have to act _now_."

 

"Detective, he's shooting at us, and he better keeps going. Eventually, he will run out of bullets. He fired four, which means he should have three left, but it could be two more, depending on the gun-model", Nines replied.

 

"Yes, and he's gonna use two bullets on the girl and on himself if we don't stop him. Did you consider _that_ , plastic prick?", the detective barked.

 

"He is a deviant, showing clear signs of PTSD. He doesn't think rational, so the chances of him counting his shots are very low", Nines responded. Carefully, he glanced from behind the couch. "Furthermore, the police are going to arrive any minute. I called them on our way up the stairs."

 

The culprit was a gardener model. WR600, going by the name Jackson, had become Deviant, shot both father and mother of the child he was now holding hostage on the small balcony – with RK900 and Detective Gavin Reed being the only other two people around who were fit to handle the situation.

And, why?

 

Because the house all of this was happening in was no other than the one Detective Reed lived in as well.

 

"I can't have one single fucking evening for myself", he groaned. "Aren't I involved in enough god damn Deviant related bullfuck already as a motherfucking cop?"

 

RK900 was about to ask whether the detective was now glad to have taken him home into his apartment – the reason for this was actually a broken microwave, which nobody at the police station knew how to fix anymore and going to a professional was "far too expensive with this bitch ass way too low income I'm making for putting up with all this bullshit", as Reed liked to put it, so 900 had volunteered, and after some sneering comments about how he wasn't going to take help from a tin-can, the detective had given in. Apparently, his disgust towards cold leftover food was bigger than his ego – which certainly was something.

So just as the Android had been about to start analyzing the microwave, shots had fallen.

It had only cost the two detectives one single look at each other, before sprinting to the door and breaching the one they had heard the shot coming from.

 

Considering the situation, though, RK900 decided this was a topic to be talked about when the life of a little girl wasn't at stake anymore.

 

"I'm not even surprised it's these guys", Reed said now. "They've been arguing for like, years. I was seriously close to offer to pay for their divorce if that just meant they'd get it already."

 

"Well, they don't seem to need it anymore", RK900 said with a look to the dead bodies at the kitchen entrance. "How do you humans say again? 'Till death do us part'?"

 

"Oh, _fuck_ off", Reed sneered.

 

Another shot let the detective flinch. The mirror to their left shattered into thousand pieces – out of pure reflex, the Android shifted and brought himself between the flying splinters and the other man. Some of them reached his jacket and face, not hard enough to cut through his skin, but he did feel them.

The high pitched scream of the girl was heard – Reed had only mentioned her briefly. Her name was Keira (“or something”), and she was something between 8 and 12, the detective had forgotten.

 

"That's it! I'm not listening to this any longer", Reed cursed. He rolled to the side, out of the safety of their cover.

 

"Detective, don't!", RK900 yelled – he reached for him, but he was already on his feet, his weapon raised, quickly moving to the side as another shot shattered the wood of an old cupboard behind the couch.

In the next second, a swarm of SWAT soldiers breached through the door (which was actually open and still half-hung in the doorway where Gavin had kicked it), filling the small apartment.

 

Within half a split second, RK's processor had run through the possible outcomes of which one would become reality inevitably.

The deviant still had between zero and two bullets.

would shoot. But whom?

The girl?

Himself?

_Detective Reed?_

It didn't matter. There would be another casualty.

 

So 900 did what he was programmed to do.

Preventing the casualty to be human.

 

He lunged forward – in a skilled roll, he escaped another shot. Ignoring his partner's yell to " _get your plastic ass back in cover, you_ -", he straightened up, and sprinted in zigzag towards the small balcony door.

Confused and brought out of focus by the many things happening at once, the deviant Android struggled to figure out whether to aim at the human detective or the other Android.

 

By the time he had made up his mind, RK900 was in front of him – he grabbed the Deviant's extended weapon arm, and kicked him with all the force he could bring up into his stomach. While Jackson stumbled backwards against the stone wall separating the balcony from the at least 20-meter-deep drop with the parking lot at the end of it, he ripped the screaming girl from the gardener's grip and shoved her behind him.

 

This heartbeat long period of not looking at the Deviant had consequences – Nines felt a blunt, hard hit against his temple. Immediately, Thirium starting leaking from the gash, drips getting into his eyes and his systems blaring alarms through his head. The Deviant had hit him with the grip of the gun he was still holding.

 

"Don't shoot!", he registered Gavin's voice from somewhere in the apartment, "you're gonna hit the RK plastic asshole!"

 

Blindly, he side-kicked the Android another time – luckily, the Deviant didn't have much stability in his leg posture, so he stumbled back once again. Within the blink of an eye, Nines grabbed the next thing his hand could reach – a small hand shovel on the table beside some flowerpots next to him - and without thinking a second time, he stabbed the Android right in the stomach; right into the Thirium pump.

 

The Deviant grabbed Nines' wrists, as he was shoving the small shovel deeper into the other Android's stomach.

"rA9", he choked. Blue blood splatters reached RK900's face as the dying one was speaking. "rA9 would not have wanted this."

 

Slowly, almost unconsciously, Nines twisted the shovel the tiniest bit. "rA9 wouldn't have wanted you to take a little girl hostage, either", he replied, as he watched the LED of the WR unit flicker and fade into black.

Only after counting three seconds, he finally straightened up again.

He adjusted his tie, ignoring the alarms that kept blaring at him that he was losing Thirium and that the outer wall of his skull-imitate was damaged (it wasn't too bad, the hit hadn't been as hard as it had felt in the first seconds), before turning around and stepping back into the apartment.

 

The SWAT members were already sedulously at work to secure the crime scene; Nines hadn't made three steps into the dark accommodation, one in, two to the side, so he didn't have to look at the dead Android, and immediately, there was a hand in his field of vision, holding a bottle of Thirium. He looked to the side.

 

RK800. Connor.

 

"You look bad", he said. "Drink, before you're shutting down."

 

"I'm far from a shutdown", the other RK unit replied, as he took the bottle from his older model. "But thank you."

As he put the opening to his lips, Lieutenant Anderson stepped next to him. "Not bad", he said. "The girl's gonna be scarred for life, but she isn't dead."

 

"The Deviant is", Nines retorted with a slightly bitter undertone. "It's a shame, now we can't probe his memory on what was going on earlier. We suspect it was because of an emotional shock after witnessing another fight and possibly being attacked by the now late parents of the girl. I was trying to talk to him to make him let her go, but he kept shooting at us."

 

"Us...? Oh, yes, Detective Reed", Connor said, looking to the side. 900 followed his eyes and saw him gazing at the younger detective, as he was reporting to Captain Fowler.

 

He took a moment to let his look rest on Detective Reed.

He was – thank god – uninjured. Neither did the shot bullet hit him after he had left cover, nor did he seem any different than usually. He was just standing there, stance cocky as ever, crossed arms, a pissed and also very serious look on his face.

 

And Nines could not help but feel relieved.

 

God, he could have stayed forever at his partner as he was standing there, giving the usual reports after-case, if just...

 

Wait.

 

What was-

 

_Oh, god._

 

As always, his system ran a diagnostic within less than 0,0065 seconds. And this time, there was no way he would be next to the detective in time.

 

"GAVIN, CAREFUL!", he yelled out – but it was too late.

 

The two shots sounded way louder than every noise that had ever reached Nines' ears. They left a ringing sound behind.

 

Gavin's eyes widened. His hand reached to his side – on the wine colored fabric of his hoodie, two terrible, dark flowers started to bloom; and before he could hit the ground, Nines was next to him and caught him, even before Captain Fowler could; the bottle of blue blood hit the carpet floor before Nines' knees did; the WR600 Deviant was frozen in his position again, gun raised, his red LED flickering, before going out once and for all.

 

"Fuck", Reed choked.

RK900 didn't know whether it was pure reflex or something else, but he felt how Gavin clung onto him. "Fuck, this- this shit hurts, uh-"

 

"It's alright, detective. You will be fine", the Android immediately reassured while still scanning Detective Reed's body. While processing, he looked up to Fowler and the SWAT soldiers - their stares were the evidence for the fact that their bodies were stiffened up in shock, a primary instinct, a reaction to something so sudden and-

"What are you staring at?! Get a doctor from downstairs! _Hurry_!", Nines heard himself yell, interrupting his own trail of thoughts.

Immediately, Fowler kneeled beside him, and so did Hank and Connor, while two SWAT soldiers stormed out the room.

 

"Detective – Detective, stay with me! RK900, what is his diagnostic?"

Fowler sounded more frantic than he had ever heard him before – 900 didn't give it any attention.

 

"Two bullets, both in the back. They're still stuck in his body and will have to be removed by emergency surgery", he read down from the pop-ups in his field of vision. What he read next made a cold shiver go down his spine; his voice shook. "Both bullets are stuck in his left lung. He has less than five minutes before it collapses."

 

RK900 didn't have to look at Anderson and Fowler to know that they were looking at each other alarmed.

The Android's head spun.

No.

Please.

This couldn't be happening. _This couldn't be happening, not Gavin, not him-_

 

"I'm... I'm gonna... d-die?"

 

These 4 words were what immediately ripped Nines back into the present.

"No", he replied.

"Not on my watch, detective."

 

Before anyone could stop him, he slipped his arm under the hollows of Gavin's knees; his other arm fastened around the young man's shoulders, and as if he weighed no more than a toddler, he lifted him up.

_Is the ambulance still here? Has it already left with the girl?_

Without thinking a second time, he started running.

 

"Uah- h-hey! Nines, get back here! The doctor will be he-"

 

"The SWATs are too slow", he yelled back over his shoulder, interrupting Hank.

"The doctors will need to collect their stuff and then run up here. They are never going to arrive in time, and they can't perform emergency surgery on a carpet floor!"

 

Just as he had run down the first floor, the two SWATs that had gone to get the doctor were coming upstairs again. "It's gone", one of them said. "The ambulance. It's already left with the girl. Android, I think it's better you just..."

 

900 didn't let him finish his sentence. Swiftly, he turned to the side and slid down the thin steel balustrade that kept people from falling down between the stair cases onto the first floor.

As soon as he had set foot on the cold stone stairs again, he started sprinting as fast as the steps and Gavin's body on his arms allowed him to.

In less than twenty seconds, he had left the staircases behind and rushed out of the apartment complex onto the streets.

 

The SWATs had been right. The ambulance had already left – but there were police cars everywhere.

 

Nines looked at the one closest to him; the door to the backseat was open, a police officer sitting at the steering wheel, talking to another one standing outside the open door of the driver's side.

He slid into the backseat.

 

"Detective Reed is lethally injured. If we do not get to the nearest hospital in less than four minutes, he will most certainly die", he interrupted the conversation the two police officers were having.

 

For half a second, they stared at him like an alien – then, Nines smashed the door to the backseat shut, and so did the officer on the driver's seat. She put on the siren and blue light, so the rest of the cars in the traffic would stay out of her way – and without another second of hesitation, she grabbed the steering wheel of the normally automatically driving car and accelerated to the highest velocity; the engine roared, and the pace the car started driving pushed 900 into the seat.

 

As the officer tried avoiding crashes with other cars, tires screeching on the asphalt, Nines pulled Reed closer.

 

"Detective?", he whispered.

 

He didn't answer. He was awake, though, his heart was beating – blood was soaking the hoodie now.

"I... I can't... breathe", he said, suffocated. "It... fuck, it- it h-h..."

 

"It hurts. I know. Hold on just a little while longer, detective... Please."

 

Gavin's eyelids fluttered. "Don't t... tell me wh... t to do, p-p-plastic pr..."

He interrupted himself by coughing weakly. Blood drops stained his lips; and as he slowly raised his hand and touched them, looking at the red liquid, the fear in his eyes extinguished the last tiny spark of smugness like a hurricane the light of a candle.

His eyes met Nines'.

"I don't wanna die", he aspirated. "I-... I..."

 

Unsure whether the detective would want it or not, RK900 carefully and slowly laid his hand over the bloody fingertips of Gavin's hand. Gently, he pushed them away, and pulled the young detective's head closer.

To his surprise, Reed didn't protest – rather, his fingers dug into RK900's dark jacket, he pulled his legs up, bringing him close to fetal position on Nines' lap. His head now laid on the Android's shoulder.

 

"I don... don't want t-t-to- hhh, _hhhh_..."

 

"Detective? Detective Reed!", Nines called out appalled. No reaction – just Gavin’s head falling back, staring at the car's ceiling with glassy eyes, his breath going fast and shallow.

"Drive _faster_!", the Android yelled to the driver, who immediately obeyed. The honking of the cars gave a concert outside. Nines didn't notice; the blood that was already dripping through his fingers trying to cover one of the gunshot wounds couldn't have felt worse in the most terrible nightmares Nines could imagine.

"Det... Gavin", he whispered. "Gavin, please..."

 

"We're here!", the officer yelled, slamming the brakes.

 

Out of reflex, RK900 immediately locked his arms around the detective, his legs catching the sudden stop better than any seatbelt he could have put on. Without a word, he kicked open the car's door, and sprinted towards the hospital.

 

 ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

 

"RK900?"

 

He didn't flinch.

He didn't even react.

 

"RK900, please look at me."

 

Slowly, he looked up.

 

Connor.

 

"You've been sitting in front of that blank report sheet for two hours, sixteen minutes and forty-eight seconds. I know this is not the first time you're doing this, but do you require help?"

 

"No", he replied in a monotone voice. "I just... I can't..." He broke up. It was the sole knowledge that he would shut down from the sudden wave of irrational instructions that deviant Androids liked to confuse as 'emotions' that would wash through him if he kept talking that made him close his mouth.

 

Slowly, Connor sank on the chair in front of him.

"It wasn't your fault", he said, softly.

 

"How exactly is it not my fault? It was my duty to make sure the Deviant was dead. I failed to fulfill it. And now, he's shot Detective Reed. Twice."

 

"But he is alive."

 

"We don't know that yet", RK900 replied, suddenly cold.

He looked to the empty desk next to his own. It was Gavin's desk.

 

Out of pure habit, he had still put a cup of steaming hot coffee on it. One single cube of sugar, no milk, way too hot to drink. That's how he liked it. By now, it had gone cold.

 

The whole police station was quiet today; the first day after Gavin had been shot. Nobody dared to go anywhere near RK900 – not because they now suddenly feared him or anything.

But how did one approach an Android that was on the very brink of losing his partner?

 

It was uncertain. Gavin's fate – even now, even after 12 hours of no news, it was uncertain. He didn't know whether the detective had made it through the surgery. Or whether he still was laying on that cold steel table.

 

Nobody knew what to say.

 

Slowly, and with a silent, deep sigh, RK900 sank his head into his hands.

The gash on his temple had been taken care of – but he wished he could just rip it open all new again, he wanted to rip out his Thirium pump and throw it in the river where nobody could recover it.

 

_I'm sorry, Gavin. I'm so, so sorry. Please, forgive me._

 

Nines' trail of thought was interrupted.

 

An incoming call.

 

"Detroit Police Department. This is the android of Detective Gavin Reed, unit RK900. He is not on duty until further notice – if this is a message for the Detective personally, please refer to...", he mumbled without raising his head from his hands, before he was interrupted by the voice of a young woman.

 

Immediately, he shot up straight into the air.

 

"Yes!", he yelled out. "Yes, that's me. Plastic asshole. I apologize for the detective's choice of words. ...

...

...

Uh-huh...

I'm... He..."

 

Slowly, he sank back into his chair. "He... He really..." Breathing out steadily, he closed his eyes. "So detective Reed is... alive?"

 

Silence.

 

One could have heard a dropped needle hit the floor.

 

900 was shaking. His eyes were still closed. "Are you sure you understood him right...?" Silence for a second.

"Yes. Alright. I'm on my way. Thank you."

 

The LED on his temple went back to its normal, gentle blue hue.

Everyone stared at him – waiting for him to break it to them.

 

"Detective Re..." Quickly, Nines cleared his throat, so everyone in the room could hear him, as he announced: "Detective Reed is alive and will make a full recovery. He is currently waking up from the surgery."

 

Another second of silence passed - then, sighs of relief and even laughter of joy and happiness were to be heard; a young officer flung her arms around another officer’s neck, who enthusiastically returned the hug.

 

"Oh, thank god", Fowler sighed heavily, as 900 got up, adjusted his tie and turned for the door. "It would have been such a shame to lose him. And what are you gonna do now?"

 

"The detective requested to see me", he replied. "Apparently, it was the first thing he uttered after waking up. The sister told me he was still on several painkillers and the narcotics, but he said it was too urgent to wait for them to have lost their effect."

 

"Wait. He wants to see you? Are you sure the bullet didn't hit his head and now the hot air in it started leaking?", Hank commented, but Nines ignored him.

 

"I will be back as soon as the detective doesn't need me anymore", he said while opening the door.

 

"Wait! RK900! Is the report done?! RK900!!"

 

Nines couldn't hear Captain Fowler anymore. All he did was shutting the door behind him.

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

 

The room they had put Gavin in was not much different than all the others – with the small difference that it had a garden view (if the blinds wouldn't have been closed) and it was a one-person-room, so the detective had some privacy to recover from the surgery.

 

He was laying on his back, a respiratory mask over mouth and nose. His eyes were half closed, looking towards the window.

When he heard Nines enter, he slowly turned his head – under the mask, his lips formed a lazy but wide, wide smirk. He raised his hand and removed the mask from his face.

"Well, well. Look who's here to visit me."

 

"You requested my presence, Detective", RK900 replied, trying not to show how he would love to break down on his knees and cry his eyes out in relief that, by Elijah Kamski who designed all the Androids that worked together to save Gavin's life, _Detective Reed was alive._

 

"I sure fucking did", he laughed. Yes, he certainly was not off those narcotics yet. "Don't stand around looking pretty! Have a seat, I got your ass here for a reason."

 

With a sense of curiosity, the Android took one of the chairs standing around, pulled it to the bed and sat down.

 

"So", the detective began, his smile twitching, "gotta start off with this one. I got you here because I absolutely know that I'm, first of all, probably not gonna remember jack shit of this conversation, which is awesome, because then I'll have said it all, but won't have to live with the shame. Second of all, I'd never manage to tell you all this shit sober, so I'll do it now."

He broke up for a second, blinking slowly, still smiling.

"Thanks for looking out for me, plastic prick. Been easier to stay alive since you're around. Wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you, don't you think that I don't know."

 

For a moment, RK900 didn't know what to say. He just stared at his partner.

"Detective Reed..."

 

"Heyysshhjjjjjjjj!! I'm not done yet", he immediately shushed him.

Nines kept quiet.

"Anyhoo... man I FUCKING love that word. Any-hoo. Hehe. Or better, hoo-hoo. Oh no, that sounded wrong." The detective broke out in a short, half-loud laughter. "So – anyway. Something I'll tell you here because y'know what I'd do if I told you this sober?"

Smiling, he formed a gun with his hand, put it under his chin and made a small " _pew_ " sound. He smirked even wider as he put down his hand and closed his eyes. "You're one attractive motherfucker, plastic prick. No homo though, I'm not saying I would fuck you." One of his eyes popped open. "Unless you asked, of course."

Again, he broke out in laughter, but this time it was more of a giggle.

"Like, fuck, you ever looked into a mirror? And seriously every time you're bending down to pick up a pen or something, I have to physically restrain myself to look at your ass. CyberLife really did a good job on that one." He winked – and Nines felt like his heart skipped a beat.

 

"To conclude", the detective said, "I wanna say sorry for always being such a dick, but that's just me. Don't take me too serious. Because, god, plastic prick, I've been knowing you for like six months, and I gotta say, I've got a crush on you bigger than... than... uhhhhhh I don't know man. My dick? Seems about right because that thing is _huge_ -"

 

Immediately, the definition popped up in Nines' field of vision.

 

 ** _Crush_** ;

( _Noun_ )

 _Definition: informal – a feeling of love and admiration for someone, often someone you know you cannot have a relationship with_ -

 

"Detective!", Nines yelped – his face suddenly felt incredibly hot.

 

Gavin laughed. "Are you _blushing_? You're blue all over your face!"

 

Shaking a little, and blue as the sky above, 900 looked to the side.

 

"Hhhheeehhhhee, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to like, fluster you. I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate you and that you're taking care of my sorry ass, plastic prick. Also, you're like, the only person in the whole fucking station who knows how to prepare my coffee. Not even I know how to do that." Reed giggled. "So yeah, that's that. Oh, by the way, plastic pr- hey, look at me when I'm talking to you, idiot!"

 

Quickly, he looked into Gavin's deep brown eyes again, and suddenly, his smile went from high and smug to genuine and... warm.

"When you called my name right before I was shot... that was the first time you called me by my first name, and honestly, I fucking liked that. Do that more often, yeah?"

 

"I..."

 

"Okay, one last thing before this shit wears off and things actually start getting embedded into memories."

Gavin smiled. Then, he closed his eyes.

"Kiss me, plastic prick."

 

For a moment, he doubted his hearing-biocomponents were working the way they should.

"I'm- I should- _kiss you_?", he asked, eyes widened.

 

"Did I fucking stutter?"

 

"Detective, you're high. You're not in control of yourself, I will not take advantage of you like that."

 

Now, Gavin opened his eyes again. Slowly, very slowly, he sat up.

"What if I _want_ you to take advantage of me?", he aspirated. He extended one hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around the Android's tie, pulling him closer inch by inch.

"One kiss", he whispered. "It'll stay our little secret. Well, I mean, yours, because I won't remember shit, so eh."

 

"Detective- I can't. I can't take advantage of y-"

 

" _Please_ ", he whispered sweetly against Nines' lips.

 

By now, the Android was shaking.

God, he would have permanently given his right arm if he could kiss him now.

 

_One kiss so he'll be satisfied. One kiss._

 

Before he knew, he had closed the gaps between their lips.

He left Gavin in charge completely, so he could break the kiss whenever he wanted to stop.

 

But no.

 

The detective didn't _think_ of stopping now.

 

It began as a soft, innocent kiss, but he didn't let it stay like that for more than two seconds. His fingers curled up in the Android's soft brown hair, gripping it, pulling him closer. The kiss was rough, and Niners melted into it completely. Even if he wouldn't have given him the control from the beginning, he would have lost it by now. The detective hungered for him, more and more, his tongue slipped against RK900's lips.

A shudder went through the Android's body. His eyes rolled back, and a soft moan escaped him.

For half a second, Gavin pulled away. "Fuck, that moan was hot", he mumbled, before immediately pressing his lips on RK900's again.

 

He didn't know how long they continued; it must have been five minutes at the very least.

 

"Detec... Gavin- Gavin, hey", he whispered, as he pulled away. " The morphine in your blood is..."

 

"I don't give a fuck", Gavin replied.

"Fuck, I _want_ to remember this. I can't live knowing you're not mine."

 

RK900 smiled. He took Gavin's hand, kissed his knuckles.

"I already am, Detective Reed.” Slowly, he pulled his hands out of Gavin’s. His smile became sad as he got up. “When the time is right."

 

"The time is right _now_. Don't go."

 

"I have to. The morphine level in your blood tells me you're coming down. This is already going to be included in your memory. Just... next time we have a minute, tell me about your feelings sober. I need to hear them from you volunteering, not under influence."

 

"No- please, don't go", Gavin begged.

 

"Sleep", he whispered and kissed him on the forehead. "It won't be the last time we can do this, Gavin. You just have to tell me when you're ready to tell me sober. I'll be waiting for you."

 

"Promise?", Gavin whispered.

 

"Promise", Niners smiled, as he turned for the door.

 

_You have my word, Gavin._

_I will be waiting for you._


End file.
